


Something Like Magic

by doctor_jasley



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_jasley/pseuds/doctor_jasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard can get through this year and go to art school. Be done with all of this, even if he occasionally draws comic panels of finding someone to be friends with. Something more than friendship would be welcome, but Gerard’s honest enough with himself to know he’s awkward and weird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for cloudlessclimes for bandomstuffsit 2011

Preston Academy for the Gifted. _Gifted_ , Gerard wants to shake his head and snort. If only this were a comic book, then he’d get to have a special ability, or something. It’s not, so he’s stuck being painfully normal. Though, if he’s somehow in a comic book, Gerard’s stuck in the most boring plot-line ever.

Senior year isn’t supposed to be like this. Sure, public school has always been a raw deal for him, but at least there he had a tiny circle of friends and Mikey. Halloween is approaching and Gerard’s still one of the _new_ guys. A few people talk to him in the halls and his dorm mates are okay enough guys, but he’s pretty much been labeled a loner by now. No one’s really putting effort into getting to know him. The dark clothing and broody cloud hanging over his head are possibly not helping matters, not that Gerard wants _friends_ , he just misses his brother and the guys. Instant messengers can only go so far and texts are way too brief for Gerard’s long-winded tangents, but he’s stuck here on campus until Thanksgiving.

Why did his parents have to go and ship him off to a boarding school filled to the brim with teens labeled _gifted_ because they have a natural affinity for creativity or academics? Gerard’s a morbid fiend with his artist tools, but gifted, not really. He just loves to get lost in the worlds he creates and his parents thought it was a good idea to send some of his sketches in for admittance.

They only want the best for him.

Yeah, that speech had gone over real well when he got the heavy acceptance envelope in the mail. Mikey had only shrugged and acted as if it didn’t matter that Gerard wouldn’t be at public school with him when the end of August rolled around. So, now he’s stuck here at Preston learning more about art than anything else, and okay, that part is more than cool. However, Preston is drab and dreary. Nothing exciting ever happens. 

“I’m telling you, the lake’s haunted. Why else would it be off-limits?”

“Maybe because fucked-up students decide to take a swim and almost drown?”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Fuck you Skylar. I did not almost drown. And being pushed in doesn’t equal being fucked up.”

“Sure, sure, sure. Whatever you say, man.”

Gerard adjusts his tie, using his reflection in the window instead of walking back down the hall to the bathroom so he can borrow one of the mirrors. He does his best to tune out his dorm mates idle prattle about the academy’s grounds. The lake tends to pop up in Skylar and Trey’s conversations more than should be normal. Gerard’s wandered down that way once, during the early morning hours when he couldn’t sleep and didn’t get creepy vibes from it. That doesn’t mean he’s going to cut into Trey and Skylar’s morning rambles to mention his views.

Gerard’s not used to living with two other guys. So he sticks to his dark little corner near the window and doesn’t get involved. He can get through this year and go to art school. Be done with all of this, even if he occasionally draws comic panels of finding someone to be friends with. Something more than friendship would be welcome, but Gerard’s honest enough with himself to know he’s awkward and weird. No one wants that in a potential date.

Breakfast is the same affair it’s been since Gerard first showed up. Tea or coffee -if Gerard can sweet-talk his art in history professor into turning a blind eye when Gerard goes for a cup- and a biscuit stuffed with butter and jam. He sits near the end of the table and randomly sketches shit while he eats. No one ever disturbs him.

He’s in the middle of shading in shadows for a panel of his newest comic idea when someone crashes into his back. Gerard’s pencil pops out of his hand and lands eraser side up in the bowl of jam sitting to his right.

“Sorry, sorry, sor-” Whoever’s tripped into Gerard starts apologizing before Gerard’s even able to twist around on his seat enough to get a good look at the guy interrupting the mental story-building he’s been idly piecing together while he shades. “-do you mind if I sit here. My friends are being dicks. My name’s Brendon. I haven’t seen you around. Are you new?”

Gerard wants to be annoyed over being disturbed but the guy standing next to him is fidgeting and bouncing on the balls of his feet like some type of live wire. It’s oddly intriguing. Gerard’s curious. It’s a character flaw that hopefully won’t get him in trouble this time, considering some of the shit he’s pulled over just wanting to _know_ something that’s caught his attention.

“Sure. Gerard. Um..my name, of course. I’m on the art track. Started at the beginning of term. So not new.” Brendon nods and drops to the empty seat to Gerard’s left.

“I suck at paying attention to shit sometimes. I totally didn’t even notice. Sorry. I’m on the music and theatrics tracks. Wish I could draw cool shit. Working on anything interesting?” Brendon seems to talk without stopping for a breath. Gerard’s mildly impressed, not even he can do that. Mikey would laugh at him over that thought if he could read Gerard’s mind right now, like Professor X.

“Music? Like lyrically or more instrumental based shit? I write sometimes, but art stands out more, you know?” Gerard’s getting a bit dramatic with his hand motions. He’s always been a physical talker. Mikey jokes that if he duct taped Gerard’s hands behind his back, he wouldn’t be able to speak. That’s not the truth, Gerard would just find another way to physically express his words, be it a full-body wiggle or a hell of a lot of shoulder shrugging. “I don’t know, it’s a new idea based off of this place. It’s so fucking _boring_ man, like you don’t even know.”

Brendon smiles and bounces his foot under the table. “No, no I agree. Massively, _no adventures for you_ boring is about par for the course here. I write lyrics, but they’re nothing special. Mostly focus on learning instruments and projecting on stage.” His voice goes between loud and soft. Barry, from farther up the table, makes a shushing noise before going back to his science studies. Fuck, his book looks like it could kill a baby mammoth with one swing. Gerard doesn’t envy the guy, or hell, any of the academically inclined because their course load is ridiculous.

“Dude, did you see his course book, fuck, that thing could flatten an elephant if dropped from the roof.” Gerard laughs. His thoughts exactly.

“I’m fucking glad I’m not expected to learn all of that crap.” Brendon snickers and nods. “I’d be screwed. Don’t get me wrong, learning can be awesome, but plant aspiration is boring as fuck. I’d fall asleep.”

The first bell sounds and Brendon shoots up out of his seat, backpack in hand. “I have class on the other end of campus. Gotta run like the wind if I wanna be on time. Catch ya later.” Brendon waves like a dork before weaving through the other students like a duck lazily cutting Vs into the water of a pond as it goes from point A to point B 

Gerard collects his stuff slowly, he’s got a low level math first thing this morning. The class isn’t far from the Main Hall, so he doesn’t have to sprint, which is a good thing because Gerard’s not going to put special effort into rushing off to math. It’s one of the two mandatory core classes he _has_ to have, and he’s fine with having it start off his day, especially if it means he can get it out of the way. 

The week before Halloween, decorations explode across campus. Gerard loves Halloween -it’s kinda hard not to when Mikey’s best friend was born on the fucking day- but he’s starting to get a headache from all the orange he sees. The black is fine, however, the orange never stays the same shade and it’s causing eyestrain.

This will be the first year Gerard misses Frank’s birthday party. He’s been thinking about sneaking off campus and catching a ride home, but Gerard just doesn’t feel like it. His skin itches when he thinks about leaving. Preston is boring, sure, however it’s becoming home. A home without his brother around all the time, but Gerard’s getting used to that. Also, it’s kind of hard to miss his brother when Mikey texts him every few hours about random shit. 

“You always think someone’s a guard Trey. _Always_ , not everyone around here is super, extra, _special_.”

“I’m right, and you know it. It makes sense.”

“Only to you dipshit. All you’re going to do is get hopes up for like a fourth of the campus.”

“Ha, ha ha. So fucking funny, Skylar. Go fuck yourself. We’ll find out Friday, won’t we.”

Gerard wants to roll over and punch the frosty wall near his head. His dorm mates gossip and chatter more than twelve year olds ever do. Gerard needs to be up anyways, so he sits up, letting the black comforter fall to the chilly wooden floor under his bed. He’s mumbling out a question to Trey without thinking about it.

“Wha’s Frdy?” Gerard scrubs a hand through his hair sleepily and blinks when he realizes he’s actually said something, even if it’s technically sleep mush more than anything else. Skylar shrugs nervously and goes about tying his shoes. Trey glances around the room, like he’s expecting something to jump out and slit his throat for what he’s about to say. “Halloween, man. Halloween.”

That’s all he says. Gerard shakes his head and curses under his breath. Of course. If Gerard were more paranoid, he’d think Skylar and Trey were talking about him. It sure as fuck would explain why they got weird just now. It doesn’t matter. Gerard needs to get dressed anyways, since he’s awake. 

Breakfast is boring until Brendon plops down next to Gerard. From what Gerard can figure out, Brendon splits his morning friend time in half because apparently his friends don’t come to breakfast for some fucked up reason. Brendon’s picking at the biscuit Gerard made sure to grab for him when Gerard decides, fuck it, he’s too curious about what the fuck a guard is to let it go.

“What is a guard?” Brendon almost chokes on his bite of biscuit before swallowing and coughing a bit.

“What? Where did you hear that?”

“A guard. My dorm mates woke me up this morning fighting about if someone was a guard or not. When I asked, they acted as if I was inquiring when the Dean likes to streak through the halls in a thong. Made me feel like I’d listened in on them talking about me, or something.” A scratchy huff of laughter puffs up around them when Brendon shakes his head at the mental image Gerard just gave him.

He lowers his voice and hunches inward, huddling nearer to the table top than he was a moment ago. Gerard has to shift closer to hear his voice. “Okay, maybe I was glossing when I said nothing interesting ever happens here. Guards ground those with magic in their veins. We don’t talk about it with those not in the know. This isn’t X-Men or Harry Potter. There’s no place just for us. We exist together with everyone else.” Brendon straightens enough to reach for Gerard’s glass of water sitting next to his almost empty coffee cup.

“Magi-” The water glass slips from Brendon’s hand when he moves to press his palm to Gerard’s lips, effectively cutting off Gerard’s sentence. Knowing Brendon, he forgot he was even holding the glass when Gerard distracted him. “We don’t talk about this in the open. Dress warm and meet me at the lake tonight, midnight. I’ll tell you then.”

Before Gerard can say anything, Brendon reaches for his backpack and leaves Gerard staring at his now empty seat. Water slowly spreads across the table. Luckily, nothing of importance is near the spill. Gerard should clean up the mess, but doesn’t feel like reaching for paper towels, so he packs up and decides to camp out in front of his math class until he’s able to go in.

Skylar and Trey have been bedded down for at least an hour when Gerard finally pulls out his extra black hoodie and slips it on. It shouldn’t be too cold, even with fall settling across the grounds like chilly fog touching everything with nippy curls of coolness. Sneaking out of the boys dorm isn’t something impossible. It’s almost as easy as stepping over one of those small partitioning gates that people use to keep pets from venturing into rooms they shouldn’t explore. 

That doesn’t mean Gerard can act like a bull in a china shop. He has to take a few lesser-used paths to get around the night security that paces the grounds making sure the boys stay away from the girls dorm. His flashlight doesn’t try to go out on him like it threatened to last time.

The beam stays steady.

Water babbles and chatters the closer he gets to the lake. Its calming, nothing has changed from the last time Gerard came down here. Brendon’s sitting at the bank of the lake, one hand dipping into the cold water while he hums some song under his breath. It takes Gerard a minute to notice the water ripple. There’s a girl in the lake, her hair floating on the surface of the water like tree flowers drifting farther and farther away from their original homes as she stares at Brendon.

The snap of a twig shatters the image in front of him. The girl vanishes under the surface of the lake leaving shivering waves where she was seconds ago. “Lily doesn’t like strangers. She lives in the lake. Has forever, or that’s how she explains it. I can’t catch anything else.” Brendon pulls his fingers from the water. They’re not even shaking from the chill.

“Is she a ghost?” Gerard’s proud that his voice doesn’t chatter. It’s colder than he expected.

“Nah, she’s the last of the river folk left living in this area. Though I don’t tell anyone else otherwise. The less who know about her, the better.” Brendon wipes his hand on his thigh. “I’m not really the best at magic, but I can help with the cold. If you want me to.”

Gerard shrugs and drops to sit next to Brendon. The moon peeks out from behind a cloud causing the lake to sparkle. “It’s beautiful isn’t it? I come out here far too often for it to be healthy but I can’t help it.” Brendon reaches out with the same hand he had in the lake and curls his fingers around the hems of Gerard’s two hoodies. Warmth slowly starts to crawl through the material. Gerard left staring at Brendon’s hand when he eventually lets go.

“How did you do that?” Brendon shrugs and leans forward enough to click Gerard’s flashlight off. It was still on and Gerard forgot about it.

With the moon out from behind the clouds, he doesn’t need it anymore. “It’s about channeling. Magic isn’t like Harry Potter, you don’t need a wand to focus it. It’s just energy, and if you can see it, touch it, then, nine times out of ten you can use it. I usually suck at it.” 

A breeze kicks up, ruffling through Gerard’s hair, and he hears bells. It’s something he’s gotten used to over the years. The wind sounds like bells, and water always babbles nonsense. Brendon straightens up, out of the slouch he was falling into. “A guard helps, not with the channeling itself. They keep those with the ability from floating away. Getting lost in the energy. For some reason, there’s been a shortage the last century. Technically, one guard could tether five to seven practicing magicians.”

Gerard waits for Brendon to speak again. When he doesn’t, Gerard asks. “But? Also not that I don’t appreciate it, but why tell me this? I’m not magical, or anything special.” Brendon stares at him for a moment. A frown slides across his lips before he shakes his head, dropping the frown to the chill-hardened ground.

“Guards get attached. Once that happens, they can’t be equal to everyone they’re grounding. Bad things tend to pop up when that occurs. I’ve seen it and still have nightmares, even if it never happened to me. Also, you asked and the wind would kill me if I didn’t tell you. She’s impatient to be heard.”

Another breeze puffs against them and Brendon giggles. The sound dances with the bells Gerard hears. “This doesn’t make any sense.” Brendon nods. “It never does. I’m not a magic user, nor am I a guard, but I can tap in sometimes. I’m the resident freak. Welcome to the club.” Something sad and almost angry hides in Brendon’s voice.

Gerard wants to do something about it. He just doesn’t know what....

A flashlight beam paints the ground next to them in yellow light. The grounds keeper, Byron, is standing not far from them with his flashlight pointed downward so he doesn’t blind them. “Brendon and guy I don’t know, it’s too cold to be out here. Go back to your dorms before I have to inform your RAs about your absences.” Brendon pastes on a smile that is faker than Barbie’s breasts and jumps to his feet. Gerard follows at a much slower pace. He has more questions than answers now. He’d rather quiz Brendon on shit than go back to his room.

Halloween comes and then goes. Gerard ends up having to delete his inbox three times from the texts he gets. His brother threatens to stage a breakout for him for the second of November and Gerard has to shake his head to keep from laughing too much at the mental images that brings up. Mikey’s the least likely ninja ever, so is Frank, for that matter.

Brendon continues to split his free time with Gerard and his friends. Gerard’s starting to wonder if Brendon’s friends are imaginary because he never sees them. Now that he knows Preston isn’t exactly what he thought it was to start with, it’s easy to pick up on things he was blind to before.

Skylar and Trey start actually including him in things. Trey was crushed when he came to the conclusion that Gerard wasn’t a guard. Apparently, Gerard’s dorm mates can’t figure out what line he falls behind. The only one who seems to have any idea, is Brendon and he just shrugs his shoulders before changing the topic whenever Gerard asks.

It’s almost as if nothing’s changed. Only it has. Gerard now has to take a class on _identifying the energy around you_. It replaced his study period, which sucks because Gerard loved dicking around with his art supplies during that hour. He has friends, if he’s going to count his dorm mates and Brendon. And suddenly, Preston Academy isn’t as boring as he once thought it was.

Thanksgiving shows up sooner than Gerard’s expecting. He spends four and a half days at home being a pest with Mikey. Their mother kicks them out of the kitchen when they make an attempt on one of her pies. After that, they’re banished to Gerard’s basement room. They watch movies for hours on end and Gerard’s content.

Except...

Something keeps tugging under his skin; a barely there irritation that Gerard can’t pin-point, or explain. It snows on that Friday. Gerard sits out on the front step that night listening to the snow flakes whisper to each other while they spiral down from the smoke gray clouds. Mikey finds him and the two of them end up smoking through a pack of illegally obtained cigarettes talking about random comic books and various other horror movies or tv shows.

Monday morning, he’s dropped off at the front gate of the academy. The sun is shining, but the warmth is barely being felt. Gerard’s not the only person being brought back. About half of the student body is milling about the front court, dragging suitcases in the direction of their dorm rooms. Gerard hadn’t packed more than his backpack because he didn’t need much. He’s not an ant, he can’t carry twice his body weight.

Brendon’s balancing on one of the stone barriers set up around the dead flowers of one of the many flowerbeds that pepper the front court. He’s being ridiculous. There’s two guys trying to talk him down and Brendon’s having none of that. Gerard can hear the laughter in his voice from where he’s standing. The wind’s being playful today.

Ever since Brendon touched Gerard’s hoodies, they stay toasty in the chill. It means Gerard’s not cold right now. Well, his toes are because he forgot to wear two pairs of socks. But in general, though, he’s not a popsicle, which is always a good thing. Brendon looks up and catches sight of Gerard. When he waves enthusiastically, his blue and bright yellow scarf whips into his face with enough force to knock him off balance. He topples against one of his friends, laughter still tripping off of his tongue.

By the time Gerard makes his way over, Brendon’s friends wave bye to Brendon and take off towards the main building without even glancing at Gerard. “Spencer and Ryan have to do something this morning.They say hi though. How was your Thanksgiving?”

Gerard answers Brendon’s smile with one of his own. “No classwork and I got to hang out with Mikey. A win-win situation for me. You?”

Brendon shrugs his shoulders and shoves his hands into his pockets. “The same as ever, I guess. I haven’t gone home since Freshman year. My parents aren’t exactly okay with the whole magic is real thing.” 

Gerard nods and tries to think of something positive to say that won’t sound trite to his own ears. “What about summer? Do you stay here even then?” Gerard can’t wrap his head around that possibility. Preston Academy isn’t as desolate as he once thought it was, but still, Gerard wouldn’t wish staying here year round on anyone.

Brendon shakes his head. “I usually crash with one of the guys for the summer. I’ll get a summer job and work as many hours there as I can. It makes the days go by quicker, less to think about when you’re busy, you know. When I go to college, I’ll have enough money saved up for an apartment.”

Gerard stumbles up the first step to the guys dorms when they get there. They’ve been unconsciously making their way there apparently and Gerard hasn’t been paying any damn attention. Brendon giggles to Gerard’s left and tries to steady him. The sound makes Gerard’s stomach shudder unusually. It’s not a bad feeling, just weird.

Barry slips around them when they get to the entrance. He glances from Brendon to Gerard once before shaking his head and rushing down the steps with his science books bobbling in his hands. “He’s normal but his sister Jan isn’t. They’ve been here since last year.”

Brendon follows Gerard up to his room before Gerard even registers that he’s leading Brendon there. Skylar and Trey break apart when Gerard trips into the standing lamp that’s supposed to be Skylar’s but Trey’s always the one switching out the burnt out light bulbs -why they go through so many light bulbs is a mystery to him. Gerard’s not scarred. He’s, actually, been mentally counting down to the day when his clueless dorm mates would finally figure their shit out.

Now he just has to worry about PDAs and offers at being a third wheel from his friends. Great. Brendon makes this tiny squeak of a sound behind Gerard that catches his attention. “I gotta go, Gerard. I’ll see you at breakfast, yeah. Ummmm, bye” Brendon’s voice is small and breaks in two places before it trails off. Brendon’s gone in less than two seconds.

Gerard’s gearing up to go after him when Trey speaks up. “Best to let him go, man. If you follow him now, it’s not going to be pretty.” Gerard frowns. He hadn’t pegged Brendon as a stuffy, close-minded fool. Skylar runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“Trey doesn’t mean it that way. Gerard calm down. The guy’s not _normal_. Even for us. You need to talk to him when he’s steadier than this. Then you can decide if you want to fly kites with him forever because I’m sure he wants to with you.”

Sometimes, Gerard wonders how he got stuck with Trey and Skylar. They’re no help at all. _Ever_. Okay, they help some, especially with learning a few of the finer points of magic that he’s not learning in his one class -or with Brendon. Which, now that Gerard’s thinking about it and not glazing over in boredom over how dry the history of magical people really is, it makes sense why their dorm room runs through light bulbs a lot. Skylar can tap in easily and Trey keeps him from starting electrical storms by diverting the energy through the glass bulbs.

Two weeks eat each other before Brendon shows up for breakfast with Gerard. “Ryan says I’m being a moody bitch. Spencer agreed with him, which isn’t unusual. Jon just thinks I need to chill out. I told him it’s winter. Things can’t get much chiller. Sorry about being gone. I had to sort some things out.” Gerard pushes over his sketch book to show Brendon the doodle of a ghost he was working on as a way of saying _no harm, no foul_ without actually saying anything.

There’s not really much Gerard’s willing to say at the moment anyways. Time has been weird lately. The halls are dimmer and his classes do little to hold his attention. When learning about art isn’t doing it for him. Something’s wrong, the best Gerard can come up with is that he likes Brendon. Crushes are for Freshmen, not Seniors, and Gerard’s not sure how he feels about that.

He’s never really felt the way he does now, for anyone, and that’s not exactly a comforting thought. Brendon slides the sketch book closer. “Ghost Santa. I’m digging the transparency you have going on with him. Less zombie and more Christmas _Spirit_. I was wondering. It’s really out of the blue, but would you want to go with me to the Winter Formal?”

“Yes.” Gerard surprises himself with his reply.

Brendon smiles tentatively at him before ducking his head down enough for his hair to fall into his face some. “I promise we won’t be the only weird couple. Your friends will be hanging off of each other and mine will be going stag, together. I have to see one of my composition professors so I can’t stay for the rest of breakfast. I just wanted to apologize for being a dick.”

For the first time in months, math class doesn’t crawl by at the pace of an old, withered, snail. In fact, the two weeks before the Winter Formal fly by like a flock of geese hopped up on speed. Gerard’s bogged down with exams and final papers. He only gets to see Brendon at breakfast, even though he’s been wanting to ask Brendon if they can meet up at the lake again so they can talk. It doesn’t matter if the lake’s frozen solid -has been so since right before Brendon asked him out- because it’s not like they’re going to try a midnight swim or anything stupid along those lines. 

“This is not a bad idea. I don’t care what you think, Skylar. The auditorium roof will not fall in on our heads. We’re going. Christmas break starts tomorrow and we’re going home in the morning.”

“Fucking hell, Trey. I’m not saying we can’t do something before we have to leave, but a dance? It’s so middle school. We’re not twelve. Gerard, agree with me here.”

“The roof will only fall in if someone decides to be a dick, and even then I think we’ll be fine.” Gerard goes back to straightening his tie using the frosted glass of his window. He doesn’t have any fancy formal wear, so he’s dressed in his cleanest academy uniform “I’m going, so I have no opinions on the matter.”

“I told you he had a date with Urie. I’m glad you two talked. It’s good for the both of you.” Trey bends to tie Skylar’s shoes for him just to be annoying and Skylar smacks him against the back of the head. “If you mention epic love affairs, I’m going to shove you.”

Gerard doesn’t bother with tying his shoes. It’s best to skip out of his dorm room when his dorm mates start to bicker like an old married couple. Brendon’s sitting on the top step that leads from Gerard’s floor down to the lower ones.

“Sorry, I meant for things to be better planned than this, but got busy without meaning to. School sucks ass, taking all my time away.” Brendon stands awkwardly and smiles at Gerard. It lights up the stairwell and Gerard darts his hand outward enough to snag Brendon’s. It’s a brave move Gerard wouldn’t have done with anyone else. Apparently, Brendon’s beginning to influence Gerard into wanting to do things like that.

They start down the stairs, and Gerard almost trips when he steps on one of his untied shoe laces. Brendon tries to hide his giggle behind one of his hands, but fails epically. “Do you need help?” Gerard shakes his head and leans against the railing so he can tie his shoes properly. When he’s finished, Gerard tries to smile without seeming awkward or nervous -he’s both of those things. Brendon beams at him, and grabs for his hand again.

“I like you, Gee. I was wondering, if after the formal you’d want to go somewhere and talk? I meant to have this conversation before now. I fail like the failingest fail ever. Forgive me?” Brendon’s blushing some, a barely there stain of red creeping across his cheeks, and Gerard doesn’t think about it when he leans forward and kisses Brendon lightly. The touch is soft, almost nonexistent. Brendon’s still smiling when they pull apart, though, now there’s worry and something painfully hopeful hiding in his expression.

“That was okay, right? I haven’t misread shit and this isn’t really a date? Talking afterwards is fine. Going back to my dorm room won’t be an option for a while. The last thing I want to see is my dorm mates fucking. They try to be polite, but yeah..” Brendon nods but he’s suddenly detached, the only thing showing he’s still present is the way his fingers twitch against Gerard’s.

“Hey, Bren. What’s wrong?” Trey and Skylar pass them on the stairs without paying them any attention.

“They’re perfect for each other, but they’re going to hurt each other unintentionally.” Brendon’s voice is far away as he speaks. “The stars speak of them. They speak of us also. It scares me.” Gerard’s trying to figure out what riddle Brendon’s weaving when Brendon shakes his head hard, a weak smile trying its best to crawl across his lips. “That’s for later. I promise, nothing bad is going to happen tonight, not for a long time. Dancing will lighten everything up.”

“We don’t have to go, if you’re not feeling like it.” Brendon looks at their hands still clasped together and shakes his head again -this time only slightly.

“Nah. Dances are fun. This is the first one I won’t be alone on the dance floor for. You’d deny me that?” Brendon’s mock pouting and Gerard can’t help but laugh. Whatever happened moments ago is gone and trying to revisit it now doesn’t seem right, so Gerard drops it. He can always ask later. 

“I gotta warn you, I’m shitty at dancing.” Brendon smiles again, this time the mirth doesn’t have to fight for purchase.

“I have been sufficiently warned then. It’ll be fun. No experience needed. Come on, I bet they’ve already started without us.” With that, Brendon tugs on Gerard’s hand and they’re picking up their pace so they can make it to the auditorium sooner, rather than later. 

The Winter Formal’s almost boring, a bunch of moody teenagers loitering about the auditorium. Some of the couples are dancing, but most of them are hanging off of each other while they chat with friends. The air is still amongst them. Gerard has to loosen his tie, pull it away from his collar enough so he can breathe. Brendon shoots him a worried glance before getting distracted by three guys holding up the wall. 

More students bustle in and a gust of wind follows, clinging to the back of their collars. It’s enough to ruffle Gerard’s hair. The effect is calming. Brendon smiles at him -the dim lighting makes it difficult to completely make out Brendon’s expression, but Gerard knows it’s there- before dragging him over to meet his friends. 

Music crashes against the walls and it’s hard to hear. Gerard’s sure there was some type of introduction thrown at him when they approached Brendon’s friends, but he missed it because the noise playing from the speakers gobbled up all the words. Gerard’s left to stare at the three guys in front of him and Brendon, wondering what the fuck he should do. He didn’t sign on for small talk with a thin stick of a guy wearing a lime green scarf who looks like he’d rather chew on a lemon peel than make chit-chat with someone he doesn’t know.

The short, scruffy guy standing to the right of thin guy twitches his fingers some. Suddenly, the music turns down around them. No one else seems to notice. “Hey man. Nice to meet you. I bet you didn’t hear shit a moment ago. Sorry about that. I always forget not everyone is part of the bubble. Spencer’s the one glaring at the Lacrosse players and Ryan’s just pissed that his favorite scarf grew wings and flew away. I’m Jon.”

They spend what is probably four or five songs in a conversation with Brendon’s friends. Gerard doesn’t know whether to praise his dorm mates for being his friends after meeting Brendon’s or not. Ryan and Spencer seem to have a condescending view of their peers and Jon just _doesn’t_ care. It’s a wonder they decided to come to the formal at all. 

“Lighting candles is amateur work. Magic, or no magic. I’m not going to walk some _rock_ through steps they already know. If they can’t do it on their own, then they need to go back to their crib classes instead of wasting everyone else’s time.” Ryan’s ranting about something Gerard doesn’t understand. Not really. He’s still so new to this whole _magic is real_ thing and his one class on it isn’t even about practical, hands on, use of the energy.

“Not everyone has the same skill set as you do. I seem to remember someone taking the time to walk me through it back when I couldn’t even cut the lights on with a single touch to glass.” Brendon’s voice strains slightly and Gerard tugs on his hand some, silently asking if everything’s fine. Ryan huffs impatiently.

“There’s a glaring difference between _otherness_ and just being dumber than a stack of bricks with barely any ability being present at all.” 

“ _Otherness_?” Brendon tightens his hold on Gerard’s hand as his friends stare at Gerard when they hear him speak.

“There’s a gap between using magic and being blind to it. Even guards can tap in, but the majority of the world can’t and have no idea that it exists. Then there’s a small fraction that’s undefinable because they know, but have trouble accessing what they can see or hear. I’m surprised Brendon didn’t fill you in, considering things.” Spencer’s voice is steady, like he’s teaching a child how to tie their shoes. Gerard’s not sure if he should be offended or grateful for the information. It’s not like his class talks about it.

“Okay, we’re going to go dance now before one of you breaks something unfixable, again.” Gerard lets himself get dragged to the center of the auditorium. No one says anything about it, if Frank or Mikey were around, they’d be laughing their asses off over Gerard being tugged about like he’s some high class pet. As it is, Gerard’s already had to field fifteen texts today on the subject of him actually socializing at a school function. There’s a reason he left his cell phone in his room.

“I’m sorry. I’m doing this all wrong. I _promise_ I’ll explain things afterwards.” Brendon whispers into Gerard’s shoulder when they start to dance close together. The music slows to something timid enough for slow dancing. It still sounds far away, like it did when they were talking to Jon, Ryan, and Spencer; a barely there noise that feels as wispy as fog rolling across a dampened field when the chill of night begins to creep in. There’s so many things Gerard should be doing, or not doing. For one, he should be thinking he’s insane to believe in magic. Preston Academy for the gifted could just be some weird-ass cult, hell-bent on brainwashing teens.

The truth is, Gerard believes in the presence of magic. He hasn’t seen it, but he can feel it, hear it. It’s possible he’s heard it his whole life. He can’t discredit the existence of something just because he doesn’t know everything yet. Maybe sometime soon he’ll actually learn something that isn’t only the dates of great magical deeds through the ages, or that the energy around him can’t hurt him unless he’s careless with his connectivity.

The there’s the fact that Gerard shouldn’t be dancing with Brendon. He doesn’t know where they stand on anything. He has no idea why Brendon made himself scarce in the first place, right after Thanksgiving. Promises to be let in on the secret aren’t the same as already knowing. However, Gerard can’t find it in himself to be angry, or want to walk away. Brendon’s warm in his arms. Just the thought of that makes Gerard happy for some nameless reason he can’t even begin to understand or label.

 

“It’s fine.... _shit_ , sorry. I told you I suck at dancing.” Brendon winces slightly when Gerard accidentally steps on his foot before smiling against Gerard’s neck when he leans in more to hold Gerard even tighter.

“I was expecting it eventually....and I was warned. I don’t think I need my toes for anything anyways. Do you?” A puff of laughter paints Gerard’s skin in warmth. He can’t help but smile. This moment is perfect. A slice of time he wishes could be cut out and displayed forever and ever just so it won’t age or spoil.

The songs stay slow and almost sad for some weird reason. Gerard’s going to go out on a limb and guess that one of the more popular girls bribed the DJ into playing slower tracks so she can make out with her date uninterrupted by a loud, or fast, song. No one bothers them, not that Gerard was expecting anyone to. One of the first fliers his parents handed him waxed poetically about how accepting Preston Academy was to all sexes, genders, sexuality, religions, ethnic backgrounds, and so on and so forth.

Trey and Skylar have either skipped the formal, or they’re hiding out in a dark corner making out. Either way, Gerard’s okay with that. He’d rather not run into them again, especially with Brendon resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder. His fingers itch for paper and a pencil to sketch out a scene like this for his unofficial comic, but going off in search of art supplies will most certainly break the moment.

After one more song it doesn’t really matter because the music finds a way to pick up its volume again, sound pummeling against the clueless people around them as it gains more and more speed. Gerard flinches, his hands coming up to his head to clamp over his ears. It feels almost as if his ears are bleeding. Brendon says something, but Gerard can’t make any of his words out.

Maybe he’s finally gone deaf?

Brendon leans forward and cards fingers through Gerard’s sweat dampened hair. His fingertips press a firm touch to Gerard’s scalp. They shake, just barely. As quickly as the music tries to swallow him, it recedes. Brendon tries to smile at him, but the only expression on his face is one of exhaustion. “The guys left. It broke the bubble. I forgot, _fuck_ , I forgot that you were still only a blanket. I’m sorry.”

“Wait...magic is distance sensitive?” Brendon nods and slips his hands into Gerard’s.

“I know it’s kinda early, but do you want to leave? We could talk then.” Brendon’s voice cracks near the end, almost as if he’s nervous about something. “I’m not really a huge fan of disco being mashed-up with rap. I’m fine with leaving. Where to?”

Somehow they end up on the roof of the guys dorm. It’s cold and clouds hang heavy in the sky. Gerard swears for a few moments that he could reach up and touch the wispy white-gray fluff. It’s not as hard to see up here as he was expecting. Strings of tiny, white Christmas lights spark to life when Brendon bends to connect the green plug to the end of an orange extension cord. “Byron lets me come up here when I need to be outside. He doesn’t trust the woods or the lake. It’s apparently safer up it. It’s not as atmospheric as the lake, but it’s comfortable enough. The stars will be out eventually.”

The Christmas lights almost glitter around the railing that lines the edges of the roof where they’re at. “It’s quiet.” Gerard knows it’s a very obvious statement.

“It’s part of the charm. Sometimes I can’t sleep in my dorm room. Whispers of dark things creep and crawl to my ears to burrow in. Up here, only the stars and the wind can get to me, and down at the lake, Lily watches for threats.”

“There’s no classification for what I am. Things speak to me and give me the future for those around me, but only the events with vast negative impact. I never hear or see the good things, even though I know they must exist.” Brendon’s hands flutter nervously from his pockets to the collar of his black winter coat. He paces in front of Gerard and keeps looking off in the distance.

“Otherness is the only label Preston Academy, or anyone else with ability, has for us. We’re not active magic users and we’re not blind either. There’s a book in the library, shoved behind boring bibliographies, that claims only about fifty _others_ have ever been documented as existing. Preston’s had maybe four since they opened their gates in 1904.” A sigh follows the date and Brendon stops pacing to drop down beside where Gerard’s sitting.

“Can you understand the wind yet?” The question confuses Gerard. He shakes his head.

“I hear bells. I’ve always heard bells. There’s rarely a pattern to them.” A swift breeze cuts across the roof and Gerard shivers from the chill riding on the back of the wind. The sound of bells is bright and almost demanding. He still can’t parse out any meaning, but suddenly it’s almost as if he can gauge emotion and intent in the wind. The sound of bells jingle happily when a second gust ruffles through his hair.

Brendon’s smiling at him, the glow from the strings of lights make him look almost stunning. Gerard can’t help but tug him forward for a kiss. This time there’s nothing soft or brief about the kiss. It’s a brash decision that Gerard’s almost surprised about. He’s not going to take it back though. “I like you, and wow, this has never happened before. I feel like everything’s speeding by, way too fast to keep up with, but I find I don’t mind.” Gerard’s words are breathless when Brendon pulls out of the kiss. 

A handful of stars dazzle, twinkling off-rhythm, when a cloud stretches thin enough to break into two separate ones. “In antiquity, I’m going to now pretend I haven’t been listening to Ryan bitch about no one reading classical literature, the stars immortalized stories of heroes and others in the night sky. When I was eight, my family went camping. It was the first time the stars spoke to me. The wind and water babble in my ears from time to time, but the stars and the magic that drips off of people are much louder.”

Gerard wraps his arms around Brendon’s shoulders and tugs until they’re cuddling together. The wind hasn’t stopped blowing. The railing they’re sitting against is iron with gaps between each post. It’s not very good at keeping the chill out. Once they’re as close as they can get, Gerard starts talking. “I was seven the first time I heard babbling. It was raining outside and I imagined myself in a world with people who communicated though rain drops. When I told my mom, she hugged me and let me ramble about it. I was nine when I first heard bells in the wind. My imagination was shifting by then and I didn’t try to make anything out of it.”

“It’s good that your family supports you. I....there’s probably something else I need to tell you.” Brendon shifts in Gerard’s hold. A nervous smile twitches across his lips before fading into an almost-frown. “After Thanksgiving, I ran away because of something I saw years from now, or at least I _think_ it’s years from now.” Gerard doesn’t know why he hugs Brendon tighter, except for maybe how Brendon seems so lost and almost alone in this moment. Brendon pulls away in an agitated manner. He trips up to his feet and begins to pace again.

“Gerard, I...we...Skylar and Trey are going to break apart in a bitter shower of sparks, eventually. There’s nothing anyone can do to change that. I don’t like being reminded of what can’t be shifted, but...that’s not...what I heard. I can’t describe it other than it was _wrong_ and made me ache.” Brendon pauses and stops his pacing. He leans against the railing and stares out into the darkness. Gerard slowly stands and goes to lean on the railing next to Brendon.

He doesn’t know what to think. Gerard can’t help but get lost in recent memories of how _right_ his dorm mates seem together. To imagine them ripping apart feels wrong in all the worse ways. “When I was twelve, I saw our first major fight. In the Breakfast Hall, I tripped into you because I wasn’t paying attention to anything else, except our twelfth argument. It was _so_ loud in my ears. I could have walked away. I _should_ have. I didn’t. I don’t know if I believe in fate, it’s too much like like religion for me, but I don’t think I can stay away. For better or for worse.”

“Sometimes I dream of your laugh, if a window is left open to let a breeze in before bed. I haven’t thought about it being anything before now, but it’s your laugh.” And that’s the truth. Gerard hasn’t really delved into what the dream might mean. He’s been having it since he was a Freshman at his old highschool. It never seemed important until now.

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Brendon tries for a laugh that only barely sounds like the one Gerard enjoys hearing.

“Apparently. I bet there’s an adventure in it all. Something to make all the comic books and movies pale in comparison. So, that’s what Spencer meant when he said _considering things_?”. Brendon stands straighter, no longer leaning against the railing, and shoves his hands into his coat pockets.

“Not that they know what I’ve heard or seen, only that I always talk about you. Sorry about them being dicks. I swear it’s something you’ll get used to.” There’s a quirk to the corner of Brendon’s mouth right before a real smile pokes out of hiding.

“Well, if I can handle my dorm mates trying out for the PDA of the year award, I think I can deal with a little dickishness from yours. Random change of topics, I know, but please tell me I’m not the only one freezing their balls off out here.” Brendon giggles at Gerard’s side and pulls one of his hands out of his coat pocket so he can snag Gerard’s almost frozen one.

“I can teach you that warming trick from the lake, if you want. It’s one of the few things I find easy about magic. Right now, though, what if we just go inside? I know for a fact that there’s a locked study with a plush sofa and a stocked fireplace we can light that’s calling our name. Byron made me a spare key for the room when he made the one for the roof latch.”

“I can be on board with this plan, especially if this means we’re dating now.” A tiny, happy noise breaks free of Brendon’s lips and Gerard finds himself with an armful of a warm, and beaming, Brendon.

“If you play your cards right, there might even be a make-out session thrown in.”

Gerard doesn’t know where things might end. He’s not Brendon, he can’t see the ruts in the path. Gerard’s always been too hopeful for his own good, even when he’s alone. That will, perhaps, never change. At this moment, he’s happy, and willing to see things through for as long as Brendon stays by his side. Gerard can just _imagine_ what Mikey’s going to say. The thought makes him laugh under his breath. Brendon notices the laugh and tugs Gerard into a kiss.

When they pull back, his voice ghosts across Gerard’s lips in a cheerful manner. “Share with the class?”

And with that, Gerard’s sure everything will be fine. How can it not?


End file.
